When She Really Lived
by Sierra Rhiannon
Summary: Draco leaks a series of events as he's being tried for the murder of Hermione Granger. Rated M for dark and sexual themes.
1. Innocent

**I do not own Harry Potter or any of this lovely little world- it all belongs to a very lovely J.K. Rowling.**

**Please do not read any further if you don't intend to leave some sort of feedback.**

The court room seemed louder than any kind of factory would be to the ears of the man sitting in the middle, none to ready to be judged. He just stared down at the cuffs that felt tight enough to snap his hands right off. He took in a deep breath as the roar of the hushed words ceased, only to be replaced by the head-splitting silence.

He looked up, very slowly, only as he was spoken to.

"The case of The People verses Draco Malfoy will now be brought to order," the Minister called, just after knocking the wooden mallet against his podium. He looked toward the man closest to the cage and nodded to him. "All right. Do it," he muttered.

Draco's head rose slightly, his eyes locking on the man. "You won't need that," he said gently, his eyes slowly rising to the Minister. "I didn't do it," he said slowly, as if he concentrated on each word.

The Minister leaned forward, a brow raising as he'd done so. "Oh really, Mr. Malfoy?" He asked, resettling. "Due to your prior arrests and time in Azkaban, I do believe that you may feel the need to lie to us. I believe this is exactly what should be in order for you, Sir."

Draco shook his head slowly, almost sadly, and moved to allow the man beside him to administer the Veritaserum, three drops exactly.

"Now," the minister began, "Two counts of breaking and entering, one count of grand theft auto." He cleared his throat, moving around a bit in his seat, "And one count of first degree murder. How does the defendant plead?" He asked slowly, looking down to Draco over his rectangular glasses.

The silver-haired man had closed his eyes, his entire world seemed to be spinning. He coughed lightly at first, then a bit more roughly.

"Mr. Malfoy, we haven't time for your delay. If you would please, how do you plead?" The Minister badgered.

"Not guilty," the man grumbled, "Not guilty, not guilty. I didn't do it," he insisted. He let his head hang,

"Right, well-"

"I loved her. I loved her so much, I never could do it.. I would never. She was the only thing I have ever had to truly live for. I wouldn't get rid of that, how could I? Why would I? Don't sit there and judge me—"

"Mr. Malfoy—"

"..You have no idea what its been like.. even these few days—"

"—Mr. Malfoy!—"

"NO. NO! I will tell you.. don't.. DON'T sit up there, as if you know. You gave the potion to me, and you want 'THE TRUTH,'" he almost exclaimed, his pale face turning a deep shade of red as his entire body filled with anger, "I've been silent for too many hours—locked away for something I could never dream of. So now, I'll start from the beginning.. And we'll all be right here to hear my story, no matter how long it takes! You want to stop me, you'll have to hex me into oblivion! I'm going to tell you my story. I'm going to tell you my truth, and you need not worry with wasting your potions up on me!"

The gavel was being slammed throughout Draco's spill, yet he refused to stop, and even continued as the Minister attempted, yet again, to speak, "NO. I _will_ be heard!" He shouted, standing in the cage that surrounded him. "I DID NOT KILL HERMIONE GRANGER!"


	2. Condemned to Life

**A/N: This story, since a timeline may be very difficult to understand for now, is years into the future. Draco is a middle-age man, and has seen many years since the demise of Voldemort, in the prelude. The chapters following will be his "story," so to speak. It will follow the life that led him to the prologue. Whether or not he's a changed man, whether or not he actually committed the murder of one Hermione Granger will be in chapters to come.**

**I don't own the Potterverse. I enjoy review on where you'd like to see the story go, what you don't like, where I could improve, what you did like, etc. I apologize for any mistakes. =]**

It was the fall of my first year at Hogwarts that I saw her. The funny thing about being young is that you'd never in a million years believe the fate that was in store for you. Back in those days, I only cared about my reflection in the mirror and making friends with the right people.

It was always assumed by my people that Harry Potter, the boy who wouldn't live much longer, would end up in Hogwarts. When my father had heard of the boy actually being accepted into the school by his cohorts, I don't think it to be a surprise that he had instructed me to be as close to Potter as possible. It nearly destroyed my precious little ego, then, when I first came face-to-face with Hermione Granger. It was in this short first meeting that I was wholly denied Potter's allegiance or trust. All that git Weasley's fault, I think. Perhaps I shouldn't place blame in this part of my life, but I can't help it. Ah, any way. I swore to myself to hate Potter and everything he loved for life at that point.

Was it unfair to include his two pals? Sure, it could have been unfair to dislike Hermione, but I was young. We all do really dumb things when we don't know any better. I took to tormenting the three. It was all fun and games when we were in school. I loved the particular way Potter's scar seemed to pulsate, Weasley's face matched his hair, and Hermione.. Oh, Hermione was a little firecracker. To get a rise out of her was almost the most fun.

Of course, I couldn't have, even in my time hating the trio, imagined the things I would be assigned to do in my future. I never could have foreseen that the Dark Lord would actually rise again as I was swearing in my young little heart to turn the three each into unpleasant shades of the rainbow. It was all just a bit of mischief, really.

I enjoyed tormenting Hermione, though. I really did. Can't say I very well expected her to nearly break my nose in third year. Feisty, she was. Had a temper that was like an untamed wildfire.

I was too impossibly young to have ever realized how much I actually liked her. The classic boy picking on a girl, you know. Much higher forces than myself made up my mind for me, though. I didn't want to do any of what I was subjected to in my last bit of time in Hogwarts. I was a right out prat most of my youth, but I never wanted to actually hurt anyone beyond repair. I was forced to take that mark, you know. It was what I was groomed for my entire life.

It made the lot of them hate me, though. If they didn't before, they all did. I didn't have any more time to pick on the three. My heart was growing oh-so-cold. I didn't want to feel, because I didn't want to know what it felt like to do the horrible things I was made to do in those times. When the three of them were captured and brought to my home in my holiday, I didn't really want to give them up. I tried to be as little of help as possible.

It wasn't expected at all for Potter to overtake the Dark Lord, you know. He was just a boy, like myself. There seemed to be no way for him to ever be able to defeat someone with as much power as what we thought of as our all-mighty leader. And you know, the very night that the Dark Lord was defeated, I had to run like hell for my life. My mother and I knew that we would be taken in- we knew Potter would give us up. All I can remember from those moments, in the great hall, is how incredibly beautiful a particular roughed up brunette that I had hated looked.

As she and her pals tracked me up and down the coasts, I grew to hate myself. I hated running like a bloody coward, but I hadn't the slightest idea of what to do. I'd heard that Hogwarts was hiring for the re-opening of the school. I desperately just wanted to return to my life of luxury and status. Who wouldn't want that in my own position? I was willing to settle for taking my NEWTS and take a position at the school until I could get myself straightened out.

And just like all bad things, I was captured. Not by the trio- just one of the Aurors. The trials ran much longer than they ever should have, I think. The questioning, the hours upon hours being left to rot. They brought in her. She was the one to break my silence, I suppose.

"Malfoy, you right git," Hermione called, removing one of her hands from her pocket, to stroke a lock of hair behind her ears. The guards stopped with her and she looked over her shoulder at the two of them. "I can handle this," she mumbled to them, nodding for them to leave her with me.

I was stunned to see such beauty. I mean, it could have very well been the fact that I'd only seen so much dark for what had felt like eternity, but.. it was so nice to see a glow about someone, to see the shine of a glossed lip. Perhaps the darkness was taking me out of character, but I couldn't help my gravitational pull to the woman outside of my cell. I wasn't going to let her know how she affected me, of course. "Ah, how wonderful," I started, "They're finally locking up the rightful prisoners. Where are the rest of your dirty friends, Granger?" I spat towards her feet, challenging her.

Her mouth fell to an almost immediate "o," just before drawing up so tightly they looked white. "Listen here, Malfoy," she started, her brows furrowing together in anger, "I don't think you're really in any sort of position to mess with me. You're going to be moved for our little talk, and you're going to answer every question I ask, whether you like it or not."

I sniggered whole-heartedly, letting my face remain in a smirk, "I don't have to answer to any one, you filthy muggle, let alone the likes of you." I couldn't help enjoying the taunt. It felt so much more normal than anything I'd felt in years. It felt nice to get the same reaction out of her as I always had.

She turned on her heel, facing down the way the guards had vanished, and yelled out to them. It was mere seconds before I had strong-gripping hands on me, pulling me toward the interrogation room I'd gotten to know so well.

Once I had been properly secured into my chair, she entered, sitting on the other side of the table. She stared at me for what seemed like far too long. "What are you looking at, mudblood? Like what you see?"

"Actually," She stared, a brow raising, "I think you look horrid. Probably the worst I've ever seen you look. She tapped her fingers on the table lightly, possibly a nervous tick.

I narrowed my eyes at the girl, for just a moment, before finding a better place to pick from. "So you admit you've seen me look good, then. Right, well.. no one like you will ever have the pleasure of being with someone like me."

"A prisoner?" She had retorted, leaning in, "Thank Merlin for that."

I opened my mouth to speak, but resigned to smugly sitting back in my chair. "All right then, Granger. Hop to it. Tell me about how horrible the things I did were; tell me about how many families I ruined.. Oh, but give me graphic detail, please," I paused, looking down at my nails, making myself look as uninterested as possible, "Oh, don't leave anything juicy out. These storytellers just aren't as fascinating as they once were. Just don't give my true evil demeanor enough justice, I think."

She took in a deep breath of air and pulled her bag from her side, rummaging through it. "Right, I know it was just right here.." She muttered, seemingly to herself. She smiled and gave a triumphant squeak of joy, just before putting three books before herself: two leather-bound books that looked a fair bit like journals, and one novel or text book of some sort, though I couldn't very well read the cover.

I sighed, exasperated, and slumped back into my chair. "Should have suspected that a frothy bookworm like you would come to read some sort of story to me," I started, my lips turning down into a frown. "I was joking, you know, about telling me a story. I don't really want to hear any of—"

"Oh, would you just can it already?" Hermione snapped, a stern look overtaking her face. She opened the massive novel and flipped to the back, pulling a little slip from it. "There we are. Look." She said, passing the slip across the table.

I stared at her with a blank face, one brow raised for quite some time before rolling my eyes down to the card stock. I picked it up, very slowly, and looked over it. My name appeared on it, which made me narrow my eyes. I gave her a look of annoyed confusion and reached across the table to snatch the book up before she could object. "Hogwarts: A History," I snorted. I shook my head slowly and tossed it back towards her after inserting the card back to its rightful place. "What in God's name does that have to do with anything?"

Hermione furrowed her brow gently, taking the book into her arms, almost as if she was hugging it to protect it from me. "Don't judge me, prat. You have no idea what I'm here for and you—"

"—You're right! I haven't a bloody clue why one of the most annoying nitwits I've ever met is in here, bothering the hell out of me, when I should be left rotting in that damned cell. If you don't have anything interesting to show me, you bloody waste of a woman, then please just get the hell out and leave me alone. I'd like to be left alone, please. If you will—" I tensed, my face showing a bit of rage, and raised up a bit, moving to the steel door. "Guards, I think she's done in here, you can put me back to rot now, I'm sure we're ready for that—"

She took in a deep breath and moved toward me. "If you don't sit your arse down, you're going to face the kiss from those lovely friends of yours."

"Rather them than some know-it-all, muggle-born freak."

It was at this point that she pushed me into the wall. I can't say I shouldn't have expected any sort of physical contact from her. It wasn't the first time, but it still shocked the hell out of me. Did this woman understand that I could hurt her, that I could snap her neck, and no one would even know until her body was laying limp on the floor? I whimpered as I felt my head make rough contact with the steel wall. "You horrid bitch!" I cried, moving a hand to check for blood. "Why won't you just leave me alone?!"

Hermione crossed her arms across her chest and walked across the room, her back to me. "Because I'm your last chance, Malfoy. I know that you saved me. I know that it's because of you that I'm alive, and the only reason you're not already dead is—" She paused, seemingly thinking over her words carefully. She knew me better than she should, even back then. "That doesn't matter. All that matters is I'm getting even now. I've got evidence enough to get your sentence at least lessened."

"Right, so I can just do a lifetime here, feeling the way I do!" I exclaimed, inwardly cursing myself for showing too much. "I didn't do what I did to save you, by the way. That's all in your head. So, if you would kindly go let them know that you're done trying to play hero like Saint Potter and let me get on with my death—"

"You may be the slime and scum of the earth," Hermione started, her voice heating with each word, "But I'm not letting you off that easily. You're exactly right, you RUINED the lives of many families.. and I'm not going to let you off the hook. You have to be put out in the world to see the repercussions of your saving me, Malfoy. And whether you want me to or not, I'm using the evidence I've gathered to set you free."

"Why do you care so bloody much?!"

She reached out to slap me. "I don't care! I- I.." She let out a groan and settled back into her seat. "Its not your time to ask questions. Sit down."

"What if I don't want to si—"

"JUST BLOODY SIT DOWN, YOU IDIOT!" She exclaimed.

I couldn't help but take the orders. She seemed to mean business. I sat opposite her, just as I had been and crossed my arms, a pouty look across my face.

"As it stands, you're due for the kiss— Shut your mouth, I'm not done speaking. After special arrangements are made, you may be able to walk.. ehh, semi-free, and possibly still be allowed parts of your inheritance – PLEASE, don't even think to speak until I finish, Malfoy.. You're going to be helped, whether you like it or not, and no- not because I care about you, just because I'm not as much of an ass as you."

"So you are an ass—"

She took a deep breath, exhaling it slowly before exclaiming, "DID I SAY YOU COULD SPEAK?"

I coughed and nodded for her to continue.

"All right. Well, with these diaries.. mine and yours," she stated slowly, not looking up from the two of them as they sat before her, "The possibilities are good. It may take quite some time, but I could get you out of here, and begin my little social experiment."

"MY JOURNAL- HOW DID YOU—Wait!" I reached out for it, and it had disappeared before I could even get my hand halfway across the table. "I will NOT be exploited!"

"Ohh, but you will," she said, her voice almost soothing. "And I'm not saying I'll like doing it, but— Oh, okay, I'll LOVE doing it. The important part is that you know that.. You're going to be in here for just a bit longer, and to just be patient, 'cause I'm getting you out of here in return for you saving my life."

My face contorted into an angry look. This wasn't what I wanted, and I was going to tell her exactly how I was feeling! Except that she was already at the door, knocking lightly on it.

"Coming out," she said sternly, knocking once again. When the door opened, she turned on her heel and looked at me. "I'll be visiting to get a bit more insight on some of the entries before I go to the judge, by the way. I just haven't made copies of the entire thing yet. See you soon, Malfoy."

I glared at the girl, with a look that should have been burning holes right through her. I spat out at her once more, my scowl only worsening as the guards came in to drag me back to my cell.


End file.
